


The Agreement - A DRV3 Smutfic: (Pregame) Saihara x (Ingame) Ouma

by mistress0fdarkness



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Abuse, Bishounen, Body Horror, Bottom Saihara Shuichi, Cock & Ball Torture, Dirty Anal, Dominant Bottom, Electricity, Execution, Extreme, Foot Fetish, Forced Orgasm, Gay Oma Kokichi, Gay Sex, Guro, Hardcore, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Male Lactation, Mind Break, Near Death Experiences, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi-centric, Personality Swap, Piss, Porn With Plot, Power Bottom, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Pre-Game Saihara Shuichi, Prolapse, Psychological Horror, Rape, Ryona, Sadism, Scat, Snuff, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Oma Kokichi, Vomiting, Yandere Saihara Shuichi, Yaoi, tied-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28900455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistress0fdarkness/pseuds/mistress0fdarkness
Summary: Shuichi is sitting with Kaito, Kokichi watching them from afar, when suddenly the young detective suffers heavy trauma to the head from a kicked volleyball from Tenko, who was playing with the other girls. Little does anyone know that the impact causes a shift in personality in Shuichi's head, this time giving his Pre-game self the wheel. Maki, being the "Ultimate Caregiver," volunteers to look after him, only for his unconscious body to mysteriously disappear the next day. Kokichi is secretly devastated and worried sick about his crush, but little does he know that Shuichi has been thinking about him a lot too and just what depravity he has planned for the unsuspecting little D.I.C.E. leader...
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 23
Kudos: 75





	1. It Was Just A Normal Day..

**Author's Note:**

> Phew, my second fanfiction I've ever written is complete. Remember boys and girls, none of the characters depicted in this story are depicted as minors, everyone in it is a young adult of at least 18+ years or more! Furthermore, these characters are in fact fictional, and not real people. Please don't take this form of creative writing, sexual fantasy, and expression too seriously! As a warning, this story contains highly triggering elements and extremely graphic and lewd content, including male lactation, physical violence, torture, rape, cock and ball abuse, softcore guro, eproctophilia, urolagnia and coprophilia. If you're triggered easily, avoid this story like the plague. Knowing how young the people are and how often intense the Danganronpa fanbase can be, especially with the Kokichi stans, I expect to receive death threats in the mail any day now. That being said, I hope you enjoy, and I look forward to your hatemail! -xo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's another uneventful, seemingly normal day. What could possibly go wrong?

[Part 1:] It was another fine day. Well, as fine as it could possibly be for students trapped inside a school and forced in a killing game. Everyone was outside in the courtyard doing their own thing. Kokichi sat back, grape flavored Panta in hand, observing everyone, but mostly caring to focus on Shuichi. Ever since that night at the Love Suite hotel, he thought about Saihara even more than before. He regretted walking away. How he had wished more had transpired. To be completely transparent, when Shuichi lay there on that bed after Kokichi had pushed him, he regretted not just ripping both of their clothes off and straddling Saihara right then and there. So many regrets. Why did he walk away? Perhaps he had hoped Shuichi would pursue him. Ouma loved to be chased. He suddenly caught himself and gave his head a shake.

‘Damn it, Kokichi,’ he snapped at himself, ‘you’re not goddamn Miu. What are you thinking? Get your head outta the gutter for once. If you haven’t noticed, there’s waaay more important things to be focusing on right now rather than your petty hard-on for the emo detective. Forget him!’

But he couldn’t. No matter what he occupied himself with, whether it was pranking or messing with the others or exploring the school or trying to figure out ways to leave, Ouma couldn’t get that pretty, pale face out of his head. He looked on at Shuichi, who was in the middle of a light-hearted conversation he seemed to be enjoying with Kaito. Kaito was doing most of the talking, boasting about his adventures in space, while Shuichi intently stared at him and listened, nodding along. Kokichi felt a tinge of jealousy, then again brushed it off.

‘Big deal,’ he thought, ‘they’re just talking. Who cares about Kaito’s dumb little space adventures?’

But then he looked more closely, studying Shuichi’s face and body-language more carefully. Saihara was more than just interested and engaged in Kaito’s words. His gaze was more than just platonic respect and admiration for a friend and his accomplishments. He looked at Momota with a look that could only be described as puppy-love. He at least seemed mildly attracted to the astronaut, that astronaut of course none the wiser.

“Yeah so anyways, like I was saying,” Kaito proceeded on, “This one time I was exploring the darker sides of the moon, man, was it cool!”

“That’s amazing, Kaito,” Saihara gushed, in his own reserved and shy way.

“Yeah, the only problem was it was kinda boring up there,” Momota rubbed his spiky purple hair, “There wasn’t really much to do up there besides walk around, watch tv, eat crappy astronaut food and work out.” Kaito rolled up one of the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his rather muscular and bulky arm.

“Oh!” Shuichi blushed slightly, not expecting to see an example.

“But yeah,” Kaito continued, “See this scar right here?” he pointed to a long gash on his forearm, “one time I was just walking around and then all of a sudden my foot gets stuck in a crater. I fell pretty hard, even despite the zero gravity! A small shard of moon rock got lodged right up there.”

Shuichi cringed, “Oh god. What happened next? Was your suit torn open?”

“Yep!” Kaito laughed, “I thought for sure my goose was cooked. Thankfully I wasn’t that far from the base. I rushed back there as fast as I could and finally when I got to a place that had air, I was able to strip off the suit and change, as well as clean up the wound. The shard is pretty deep in there. So far no doctors have been able to remove it, but it seems to have not really caused me any other problems. It just kinda sits in there now, right next to my bone! You can still feel it. Wanna touch?”

“I- o-oh..that’s,” Shuichi blushed a bit more now at the offer to feel his muscular arm, “well I’m glad you’re ok. Sure.” He rubbed Kaito’s forearm and felt the bump, “Interesting. So, uh, it doesn’t hurt?”

“Nah, not anymore!”

“I see..” That shard was indeed interesting, but Shuichi was much more fascinated by Kaito’s muscular texture. The arms, they looked so brawny. So strong. Kokichi scowled at this, and knocked back another sip of Panta as if it were a beer. Shuichi was now lost in thought, deeply invested in Kaito’s fit body, and his hand traveled absentmindedly up his friend’s arm to feel it up more. It was like looking at one of those greek sculptures. His body was just..perfect.

Kaito became confused and slightly uncomfortable, “Uh...alright, you...you can let go now..”

Shuichi snapped back into reality, and his face became deep red, “O-oh! Uh..s-sorry!” and released him immediately.

The Panta bottle now quaked in his hand as Ouma began to shake in anger and deep envy. “What..the...fuck?!” he hissed under his breath. Shuichi turns out to be gay, or at least attracted to men as well as women, and THIS himbo is his first crush?! This wasn’t fair. This was stupid. Kaito is stupid. Saihara can do so much better. Momota looked at his “sidekick” strangely, to which the pale, blue-haired boy looked back sheepishly, now very embarrassed.

“I GOT IT!” a female voice suddenly yelled. It was Angie, she was playing volleyball with two of the other girls, Tenko and the lazy Himiko, who reluctantly agreed, “Oh no! Shuichi, look out! From above!”

Before Saihara got a chance to look up, a speeding volleyball appeared from high in the sky inches from his face before impacting his head hard, almost cracking his skull. SMACK! He went flying before landing heavily into the ground 4 feet from where he had been sitting. He was instantly knocked out cold. A large cut from where his skin had been split open bled at the top of his forehead. Kokichi’s bottle shattered to the ground as it dropped from his hand. Wide-eyed, he sprinted over to Shuichi, as did Kaito and everyone else who had been nearby and had noticed. Tenko and Angie gasped.

“Oh no,” Tenko groaned, “Oh no, oh no, no, no, no, no!”

“What happened?” Kaito asked, his face pale.

“I..I was just playing volleyball with the girls and I-I threw the ball to them as hard as I could and-and I g-guess it just-”

“As hard as you could?!” Kokichi quietly but lividly queried, his tone dripping with resentment and malice. “You...you stupid fucking BITCH!” He suddenly erupted at her, “You could have KILLED him! Are you trying to add to the ever growing list of casualties?!”

Tears welled up in Tenko’s eyes, as she was shaking, “I’m..I’m so sor-”

“Like seriously what the actual hell were you thinking?!” he went on, “I thought we were trying to stop more deaths. And here I thought Gonta was supposed to be brain-dead and retarded-”

“Shut the fuck up, Kokichi.” a cold female voice sharply silenced him. It was Maki, approaching the scene to see what all the commotion was about, “Everything you say and do always finds a way to make things so much worse. You’re not helping, you never are. You’re a waste of space. Just leave. No one wants you here.”

The words stung Ouma like arrows. He knew Maki and a lot of the others felt that way, but surely not everyone did. Not Saihara. Right..? Maki glanced at the bloodstained ball and then stooped over Saihara’s unconscious body and checked his pulse. “He’s still alive,” she said, “it looks like the ball had been hurled with a tremendous amount of force before it hit him, but luckily no bones, much less his skull, have been fractured. Just a few surface level injuries, the most prominent one on his head, and a possible concussion.”

“Eh?” Kaito questioned, “but how do you know? You’re not a doctor.”

“No,” Maki gave him an annoyed glance before lowering her voice so only he could hear, “But I am an assassin. Trust me, if he was dead or seriously hurt, I’d know.”

Kokichi looked at Shuichi empathetically, too distraught and worried for him to remember to mask his emotions, which puzzled Tenko, Angie, and Himiko, who had noticed. Kokichi was in love with him. All he wanted to do was to stroke Saihara’s face, and hold him.

Ouma reached down to touch the unconscious boy’s hair, to which Kaito angrily slapped his hand away, “Hey, hey! Don’t you touch him! Can’t you see he’s hurt?!”

Kokichi grasped his reddened hand indignantly.

“This was his doing, wasn’t it?” Maki stared daggers at Kokichi, her eyes full of contempt and distrust, “he did something to Shuichi, and now is lying as he so typically does and trying to pin it on Tenko. Disgusting. He would really be better off dead. I’d much prefer his death over the deaths of others who at least never deserved them.”

Kokichi silently stood there and took every piece of verbal abuse the dark haired girl threw at him, his face unreadable and dark.

“No…” Tenko whimpered, her voice shaky and sounding on the verge of tears, “It really was my fault. I was playing volleyball and I wanted to test my strength and see how hard and how far I could hit it and...it flew out and hit Shuichi in the head. It IS my fault. I did this.” She stared at her feet despondently and guiltily.

“I see,” Maki said blankly, before the strong girl stood up and draped Saihara’s body over her shoulder, “He should be fine, he needs care and lots of rest. I’ll be the one to tend to his wounds.” Kaito and the others looked at her and then Saihara worriedly.

“Well, alright. I trust you, Maki-roll,” Kaito perked up, “He’ll be alright! He’s a tough cookie! I mean after all..he does know how to take a punch.”

This allusion to the time Kaito had out of nowhere struck Shuichi during the first trial infuriated Kokichi. He clenched his fist. He would’ve loved to clock that conceited meat-headed prick in his teeth right then and there.

“There’s unfortunately no infirmary,” Maki went on, “of course. So I will be taking him back to his room.”

“That’s very kind of you, Maki!” Angie bubbled, “Who knew you were such a diligent nurse? Atua smiles down on you.”

Maki shook her head and walked off. Tenko, still feeling absolutely horrible about what had happened, sat down on the grass on her knees. Sure, Shuichi may have been a degenerate male, but he wasn’t nearly as bad as the other guys. He didn’t deserve that. Then everyone else walked off and that was that. Kokichi was deep in thought, he glanced emotionlessly at the depressed Tenko and then watched Maki go off with him. Even unconscious and wounded, Shuichi was still beautiful. His straight, long blue hair hung and flowed in the breeze. His dainty hands dangled limply next to his head. Ouma scanned his face. Soft pearl white skin. Symmetrical nose. Long, graceful eyelashes that fluttered under his closed eyes. He’s so perfect. With every fiber of his being, Kokichi hoped that Saihara would be ok.

  
[Part 2:] Later that evening, once he walked into the dining hall, he overheard Maki reporting to the fellow students that Saihara had completely disappeared. He trembled with rage. Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse. The students turned their heads, spooked at his sudden burst of hysterical laughter.

“HAHAHAHAHAH, you LOST him?!” he cackled, "What is he, a fucking pet turtle? You said you would look after him, right? So what happened, his comatosed body just got up and sleep-walked away?”

“Hey, fuckface,” Miu interjected, seeming worried, “now’s not the time for your shitty jokes! He’s actually gone. Last time we all checked he was knocked out cold. How is this possible?! It’s so goddamn weird.”

“Leave it to the airheaded sex-sow to state the obvious and what we already know,” Kokichi retorted.

“Friends!” Gonta protested, “No fighting! Shuichi is missing. Gonta thinks we should try to form a search for him.”

“Good idea, Gonta,” Kaito said, “we should all split up into small groups.”

“Am I the only one who thinks we should have weapons?!” Miu urged, “I dunno, it’s weird that he’s just..not here. What if he’s planning something sinister? Ya never know.”

“Are you that stupid, cumbrain?” Kokichi snapped.

“C-cumbrain?!” Miu whined in her signature sexual tone, before composing herself, “L-look you little shit, you can’t deny that something fishy is going on. Something stinks. I don’t know about the rest of you losers, but I’m bringin’ a weapon!”

“Oh, what a pain,” Himiko muttered, “I guess that’s your choice.”

“So!” Kaito clapped his hands together and put on his best leader voice, “Let’s all decide our search parties and I’ll come up with a plan.”

Kokichi rolled his eyes at that and turned his back on them, losing interest in their lame discussion. He walked away. As night time approached, no one had seen any success in finding Saihara. Frustrated and bemused, the students begrudgingly met back together and agreed to continue the search tomorrow, as they would soon all be required to be back in their dorms so as to not piss off Monokuma. Kokichi, leaning against a wall, curiously watched the dejected students all retreat.

‘Still no sign of him, huh? What the fuck is going on?’ he pondered to himself, ‘something’s not right. Does Monokuma or his annoying little cubs have anything to do with this? God I hate those things, as if Monokuma himself wasn’t insufferable enough on his own. I’d love to tear them all apart limb by limb ‘til they’re nothing but a pile of stuffing.’

He went to the gymnasium and sat there alone. It seemed peaceful and quiet, until he heard a faint rustling sound. Ouma blinked. The noise was gone. Had he imagined it? He sat up, more alert and looked around. It was dark, he could hardly see anything. He heard the noise again, followed by footsteps. His head was on a swivel now, and he looked about. Huh? Is somebody there? He kept quiet, cautious. He felt a presence. He looked behind him. Nothing but the faint view of a wall. He suddenly heard and felt hot breathing on his neck and flinched.

“W-what the?” the short, purple-haired boy exclaimed in alarm. He then grunted in pain and surprise as his arms were violently grabbed and held behind his back. He struggled frantically but it was useless, he couldn’t move. Whoever was holding him was much stronger.

A thin, familiar male voice said quietly into his ear, almost whispering, “Kokichi Ouma.”

It gave him chills, but before Ouma could say anything else he cried out as a sharp pain stabbed into his neck. Something was injected into him with a needle. Shortly afterwards, his vision swam and the next thing he knew, his world became black.


	2. The Madness Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kokichi, to his utter disbelief, encounters someone he would have never expected to put him in this position. Something is distinctly off about them too. Something...ominous and very, very wrong.

[Part 3:] Kokichi awoke in a jolt. He was in a small dark room, a dim light over him. He was naked, and tied to a chair. He squirmed fruitlessly, realizing he couldn’t move. His bottom pressed into the chair and a sudden intense feeling in his prostate pulsated, making him expel an involuntary moan. Kokichi realized there was something inside of him. A buttplug? It was quite large and girthy and was deeply lodged into his rectum. He then noticed there were what looked to be small, dark gray vibration bullets taped to each of his nipples. His face was flushed with red and he began to sweat. An erection began to grow from his nether regions.

“No, no no,” Ouma groaned at it, “not now! F-fuck, please, not now!” He began freaking out and jerked in his restraints, trying anything he could to release himself.

“Nnn-ghahhh!” Another cry left his lips as he accidentally bumped the anal toy hard against the seat of the chair, roughly sending it further up his ass. He was definitely no anal virgin, and had placed many things up there in his spare time, but never anything of this size! The buttplug, dildo, or whatever it was had to be at least 8 inches long! It felt as exactly as it did when he was being penetrated for the first time by one of his particularly well-hung and dark skinned D.I.C.E. cronies. He panted, and had to take a moment to collect himself.

“Hah...ah..fuck...Hey!” he yelled out into the dark room, “what twisted pervert did this to me?! Y-you’re going to be sorry! That’s a promise!” His emotions collided. He was mad. Furious even. How dare someone do this? And he was highly embarrassed and exposed. And he was also, unfortunately, very aroused. Truthfully, he loved to be tied up and abused. He loved everything that was happening to him right now. But due to his pride he absolutely hated to admit it. He heard a faint laugh in the corner of the room, the same familiar quiet male voice he had heard in the gym.

“Sorry?” the voice crooned mockingly, “I will be sorry? You will make me sorry?”

Kokichi narrowed his eyes. Wait a minute..that voice....it sounded like…”Sh-Shuichi?!” he exclaimed in disbelief.

“Oops!” the voice said playfully in response, “busted!”

It certainly was him. Only Saihara sounded completely different. His tone..it wasn’t the meek and humble tone he usually had. The way he spoke, the cadence and assonance of his words made him sound unhinged. They were also oddly sexual sounding, the voice sounded perverted and excited, gleeful. Shuichi stepped into the light, revealing himself before Kokichi. Shuichi wore his old hat, and instead of his usual suit, he wore what appeared to be a business suit or proper school uniform with a tie. He was blushing and clearly sweating, and had a demented and pleasured looking smile on his face and breathed heavily while staring at Kokichi’s exposed nude body. He looked the restrained boy up and down, eyeing him hungrily, as if Ouma were a piece of meat. Kokichi was beyond words.

“Wh-what..?” he stammered, hopelessly confused, “Shuichi? What’s going on? Wait, where have you been? Everyone’s been looking for y…” he trailed off before remembering his current predicament, “Oh, and most importantly, why the FUCK am I tied down and naked?! What did you do with my clothes?”

Shuichi giggled in response. “Ah,” the detective sighed in relief, “it feels so good to be back. And to be wearing my old clothes again.” He got up closer to the supreme leader. “So,” he continued, “how’ve you been enjoying the game? It’s pretty fun isn’t it?”

“The...game?” Kokichi tilted his head childishly, now in more confusion.

“Yeah!” Saihara breathed excitedly, like it was the most amazing thing in the world, “the killing game! Isn’t it just a joy?”

Kokichi wrinkled his nose in distaste, now disgusted with him, “Huh…? What the fuck is wrong with you? I mean, I know your head got hit pretty hard-"

''Hard, yesss, hard!” Shuichi now manically gushed, holding himself, “hard, hard, hard, it was so hard! Eheheheheh!”

Ouma stared at him unblinking. Shuichi sounded completely insane. What happened to him? It’s like he changed completely into someone else. Shuichi inched closer to him. And closer. “Kokichi Ouma,” he mused, “the Ultimate Supreme Leader.” Closer still. Until he was just inches from Ouma’s face, which was now heavily blushing. Saihara, though he had this new crazy look in his eyes, was still quite pretty. Stray strands of hair hung from his face, and the tip of his cap poked the other boy’s head. Ouma’s eyes were wide, uncertain of what Shuichi was going to do. “You know, Kokichi,” the detective said, “you were always my favorite character in Danganronpa.”

“Danganronpa? What the hell is that?!” Kokichi urged exasperatedly, “what are you talking about?”

As if he didn’t hear him, Shuichi continued, “you always made the trials and the game itself so interesting, and entertaining for everyone.”

Kokichi just dumbly stared at him. Shuichi might as well have been speaking an alien language.

“And, I found it so flattering that you’d always pine after me! ME! Of all people!” the new, unstable Shuichi held his own chest. Butterflies fluttered in Ouma’s stomach. He gasped and jerked as Shuichi sat on his lap, and now held his face. “Don’t worry, Kokichi, I still have all my memories. Like memories of that Love Suite.” The D.I.C.E. leader’s heart skipped a beat when hearing that. “Oh, Kokichi,” Saihara said with a sad and longing smile, as if he had missed on something really great, “Why did you have to go? I was so disappointed. You had me right there on that bed.”

Ouma shifted uncomfortably. As hot as he admitted this was, it felt wrong. Shuichi was too forceful, he was different. This wasn’t his cute little school boy crush anymore. He had changed. Changed into what Ouma sensed was something far more sinister. Shuichi sensed the discomfort, the smile now shifting to one of satisfaction and glee, “What’s wrong Ouma-kun? Isn’t this what you wanted?” He roughly rubbed his clothed ass over Kokichi’s now fully erect member.

“Oh!” A surprised moan was forced out of the uneasy bound boy. Saihara liked this and did it some more. “Nghh, ahh, s-stop! Stop it!” Kokichi glared at him and attempted to steady his shaky tone.

Shuichi surprisingly did so, then sarcastically said, “oh, you’re right, I’m sorry. Perhaps we should start off slower.” He grinned before moving in and kissing him. Kokichi’s eyes contracted and he struggled against him, trying to pull away with no luck. Saihara’s tongue mashed against Ouma’s, then licked the roof of his mouth and his teeth before forcing its way down his throat. Ouma choked and coughed, appalled and frustrated. He was powerless and at the taller boy’s mercy. He was becoming his bitch. He did not like lacking control. This wasn’t how any of it was supposed to go. While feverishly frenchkissing and tongue-fucking Kokichi’s throat, his hat slid off in all the commotion. The two moaned in arousal and animalistic aggression, in a losing battle for dominance. Then, while still mouth raping him, Saihara hastily stripped, removing his tie, jacket, shirt, pants, underwear, shoes and socks. He then broke away from their oral embrace, with his uke gasping and trying to catch his breath, then gagging involuntarily as Saihara spread his mouth wide and spit into it, before holding it closed.

“Swallow it,” he ordered. Despite himself, Kokichi did. He gave his unwanted seme a black look. He was not happy.

“You bastard..” he growled, “I’m going to make you pay for this.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Shuichi chirped, “you were always the vindictive type. It’s just too bad you’re in these restraints. You’re mine.” He leaned in closer and whispered into Kokichi’s ear, causing the hairs of his neck to stand up. His breath felt hot and tickled his lobes. “And I’ll let you in on a secret,” the depraved detective murmured, “I had cut a deal with the mastermind. An agreement, if you feel so inclined. To make things a little more interesting in the world of Danganronpa, and to start by giving the fans exactly what they want.”

  
[Part 4:] “Giving the fans..what they want?” Ouma slowly repeated back to him.

“Oh yes!” Saihara was in his face again, “You happen to be a crowd-favorite, Ouma-kun! They all love you.”

“Who’s THEY?” Ouma spat, seething.

“Why, the fans,” and after that stupidly matter-of-fact statement, Shuichi dove into Kokichi’s neck like a vampire.

Kokichi couldn’t hold back his moans or control their volume. His toes curled. That was a very sensitive spot. Shuichi kissed and sucked his neck ruthlessly, making his forced partner sing like a canary. He left 7 hickies all over his uke’s neck. Satisfied, he pulled away. Kokichi was flustered, sweating and panting heavily, yet was still quite irate. He wanted to spit in Saihara’s eye. Before he even got the chance to, Saihara glanced back, down at his partner’s solidified member, now dripping precum from all the excitement. “Oh, and what do we have here?” the twisted pervert of a detective smugly popped the rhetorical question, “I’ve probably greatly hurt your pride Ouma-kun, and you probably just want to throttle me right now for all of this. Maybe even kill me. Your love for me has probably long since twisted into indignance and hatred. But none of that matters. Because deep down, you love this.”

Kokichi yelped as Shuichi harshly grabbed the penis and squeezed, “and this is how I know,” he added. Shuichi then got off of the boy and raised his foot. Kokichi was sure he was about to stomp on his dick, and cringed and braced for the pain. Instead, his foot massaged it, jerking it up and down. Kokichi released amazed and ecstatic moans. Guess this new Saihara at least wasn’t as fucked up and sadistic as he thought. He’d never gotten a footjob before and was greatly surprised by how great it felt. Saihara’s foot was soft, porcelain white and dainty, just like his hands. It even looked kind of..tasty. Kokichi couldn’t help but stare, and desire to suck on his toes, if only they were within reach. Shuichi giggled cutely and like a child, with a tint of cruelty in his eyes. He didn’t want his partner to have too much fun. He looked back at the security camera that Kokichi had never noticed before.

“I hope you’ve been enjoying the show. Now how about we liven things up a tad, hmm?” he said before turning back to look at his sex slave.

Kokichi curiously looked at him sideways in response. Saihara flirtatiously winked at him. Then without warning, he crushed Kokichi’s dick and balls with his heel.

“GHHHAAAAHH?!” Ouma’s entire body shook as an ear-piercing scream of distress and pain vacated it. Tears streamed from his eyes. He then saw Saihara’s foot was raised once again. Ouma’s eyes, full of desperation, hurt and fear, met Saihara’s, and shook his head passionately and non-verbally pleaded with him not to, only to be met with another unspeakably forceful blow to his genitals. Then another. Then another. Kokichi screamed and screamed like he never had before. Steaming urine squirted from his bruised penis and testicles onto his torso and onto the ground.

  
[Part 5:] Shuichi paused to admire his work. He was close to breaking his new toy, so close he could feel it. Kokichi hung his head in extreme shame at having wet himself and from the excruciating agony and sobbed quietly. And it wasn’t those fake crocodile tears he would present from time to time when messing with the other students. These tears were real. He was crushed, physically and mentally. Where did it all go wrong? How did his life lead up to this point? He longed for the days of the trials. He missed the trauma of that in comparison to whatever this was. His schoolboy crush had lost his mind and tied up, sexually assaulted and was now physically abusing him with cock and ball torture. He would have much preferred Shuichi ignoring him or everyone insulting and hating him over this.

“Imagine that,” Ouma cocked his head up weakly to look at him as his assailant spoke, “an Ultimate Supreme Leader and beloved character of a popular killing game series..reduced to this. THIS! You can’t tell me that that isn’t at least a little pathetic.” The cobalt-headed sadist roughly grabbed his dark plum hair, getting a pained yelp in response, forcing Kokichi to completely face him.

Kokichi’s anger and indignance had now completely dissolved into pure unbridled fear. What kind of monster was this guy? He still had a hard time accepting that the righteous, good natured and self conscious detective had morphed into this.

“Are you my little piss-pig? Hmm?” Saihara suddenly shouted at him, with a tone of true insanity, “Are you? My little piss piglet! Oink, oink, oink! Go on, do it some more! It’s ok, pee-pee boy! Wet yourself! Let it ALL out!” He licked his lips. He was enjoying the hell out of this.

“Ghh..” was all Kokichi managed to squeak out in response. He could no longer speak. His parts ached in a dull, throbbing pain. Ouma had not eaten all that much today and thankfully there was nothing in his guts, or else he surely would’ve shit himself as well.

Shuichi seemed disappointed, “Oh come on! You didn’t even pee all that much. I know there’s more in there.”

After a minute of nothing happening, Shuichi’s expression hardened. Kokichi blinked at him, cowering like a beaten dog. His eyes were on him again. Those dull gray eyes were cold, emotionless, and unfeeling, his pretty and girlish lashes still flapping as he blinked, “Am I going to have to make you?”

Kokichi jerked up in terror and gritted his teeth. For the first time ever, he was at someone’s mercy, he was someone’s plaything and begging them for release. He was really in trouble. It was impossible. How did he manage to get into this situation? “No, no wait, please!” he pleaded, teary eyed, “D-don’t! Please don’t make me! It’s so...h-humiliating!”

Shuichi smirked in amusement. His once arrogant, abrasive and childish rival was now a sniveling pathetic mess, desperately begging for mercy. It was so pitiful. It made Shuichi so hard. “Is that...a lie?” he uttered with his twisted grin.

He then punched Ouma in his stomach as hard as he could. Ouma mewled and lurched in anguish. Surely enough, as Saihara had predicted, more urine squirted violently from his bitch’s urethra. Content, Saihara bent over and gave the tip of Ouma’s dick a kiss. “See?” he purred in a falsely warm and affirmative manner, “I knew you could do it!”

“Ngh…” it took a lot of strength for Ouma to speak now, the wind had been completely knocked out of him, “you’re...you’re sick.”

Shuichi chuckled, “No, YOU’RE sick!” He struck Ouma’s stomach again, this time with his foot.

Kokichi howled in pain, before his face turned green. Saihara stepped back expectantly and gave him room as he violently vomited all over the floor.

“AHAHA! Get it?” Shuichi beamed, referring back to his cruel pun.

With a broken spirit, all Kokichi could do was feebly stare at the floor at his mess, drool and vomit still leaking from his mouth, and silently cry.

The cruel seme turned to look at the camera again, “what do you guys think? Has our favorite little grape Panta lover had enough?” He stood there for a moment staring, as if waiting for a response. Then snapped his attention back to Ouma, “Well, I think all the resistance had been beaten out of you, wouldn’t you agree?” Ouma said nothing to that. He couldn’t. Shuichi’s mouth curled into a wicked beam. “I’ll take that silence as a no. So you think you can handle more? Very well then.” His fist then collided with the uke’s face. The beatings then proceeded, blows including but not limited to Ouma’s face, chest, legs, arms, ribs, and torso. The chair underneath constantly shook from the impacts. Ouma’s pained cries grew weaker and weaker with each punch. Saihara then stopped and looked in his own sick entertainment at all the colorful new bruises, marks and scars he had painted his blank canvas with, turning it into his own sado-masochistic masterpiece.

“You have such a cute, shota-like face, Ouma-kun,” he said, “I’d better stop now. I don’t want to mess it up too badly.”

Kokichi somehow snapped out of his daze and caught a second wind. He slowly sat up, looked directly at his new master and spat a bloody dislocated tooth at his feet. He had a copious amount of bruises, cuts, marks and other injuries from top to bottom, but as Saihara said, the young man still looked beautiful and maintained his youthful appearance. He looked like a poor innocent abused little twink boy, and Saihara relished it. Blood leaked out of Ouma’s nose.

  
[Part 6:] “I’m curious,” the beaten bishonen suddenly said in an unexpectedly cool and collected manner, it was a wonder he could muster up the strength to speak at all. “How long do you plan on keeping this up anyway? Is this it?” he questioned in his typical smug and sly fashion, “You plugged this toy in my asshole, taped these two toys to my chest, stripped me nude and tied me to this chair, all so you could just beat me up? Was there anything else you were going to do with me? Rape me? Kill me? Eviscerate me? Torture me some more?” His violet eyes flashed in a catlike manner, though one eyelid bruised and slightly swollen over one eye.

Shuichi’s eyes widened, he was taken aback by this question. He thought for a moment, then once more looked at the camera. He then walked over and got highly close to it, his face inches from the screen, and whispered something to it Kokichi couldn’t hear. Saihara walked back to his victim beaming. “You’ve been a very good boy, Ouma-kun, and-”

“Oh yeah?!” Kokichi sneered, missing some teeth, “What’s my prize? I love prizes! Are you going to finally put me out of my misery, Saihara-chaaan?” He stressed the pet-name in a whiny childish tone, and it dripped with sarcasm.

Shuichi scowled at his prey’s newfound impudence and at having been interrupted. “As great and totally not boring at all of a suggestion that is,” Shuichi shot back in a ridiculing tone, “I had something a bit more..creative in mind for you. Now you’ve proven that you’re quite strong and have a lot of stamina. You can take a lot of pain. So I’m wondering how that stamina and endurance translates to you sexually.”

Kokichi’s confidence was completely gone once again and his face drained of color. The last thing he wanted was for his cock to at all be handled at the moment. Or was he the one who was going to be penetrated? He wasn’t quite sure, but considering his broken phallus, he would have much preferred the latter. To his horror, Kokichi looked down and saw that this entire time his penis, despite how beaten up it had gotten, remained fully erect. He wanted to cry. His body had enjoyed all of this. Why? Why did this have to happen to him? He didn’t want to be a masochist. Kokichi knew he was gay, but he never wanted to specifically be gay for this psychotic fuck. He never asked for any of this.

“As for that ‘prize’ you mentioned,” Saihara cooed, turning around and spreading his rather plump and voluptuous ass cheeks and exposing his tight, pink pucker.

Kokichi absolutely loathed himself for being aroused at that sight, and couldn’t help but drool. His cock leaked more precum and throbbed anticipatingly. The seme let his displayed asshole wink a few more times before spreading it with two fingers, teasing his sub boy more. Ouma cursed at himself for staring and blushed, his face was hot. It was so embittering, so upsetting. How could Kokichi possibly stay hard after all of this? Saihara then sat down on his cock, letting it slide between his buttocks. Kokichi winced from the pain of his tender cock being touched. Great, a buttjob. Exactly what his ruined cock needed. The bottom heavy, dominant femboy picked up the pace, moving his ass faster, and his uke with the purple locks whined and moaned in a combination of pain and pleasure.

“Hnnngh, n-no, leave my dick alone! G-get off!” he objected defeatedly.

“Mmmn, Ouma-kun,” Shuichi chimed, ignoring his victim’s fussing, “the way the base of your shaft rubs against my asshole..the feeling is breathtaking.” He clenched his ass, squeezing the dick between it, causing poor Ouma to jump.

“Ahhh, f-fuck! Ngh, what are you doing to me now?!” he barked.

“My, my,” Saihara said coquettishly, “You have quite a few injuries on your poor little cock. Should I maybe..kiss it better?”

Kokichi grimaced, “Fuck you.”

His dom turned around and got on top of him, and continued with the assjob, now facing him. He then grabbed the cock between his feet and rubbed the shaft with them, while teasing the tip with his backside orifice, his bitch baying and whimpering under him all the while. Ouma’s cock was dark, like a heavily bruised banana, and now here it was enduring a double footjob as well as prodding his rapist’s backdoor. Shuichi wanted his fucktoy inside of him. “Hey, Ouma-kun?” He leaned in close to the miserable, suffering boy under him and in his ear he whispered, “They say that there’s a thin line between pain and pleasure. Well I’d say you’re happily riding that line right in the middle. Coincidentally, just like I’m about to ride you.”

  
[Part 7:] Saihara tittered, then once he had said his piece, he sucked a few of his fingers and then inserted them inside himself, one by one, as to sort of prepare himself for the real thing, exhaling quiet, timid moans. All Kokichi could do was watch helplessly. Shuichi then removed his fingers and squeezed his own nipples hard in pleasure, ready to sit on that cock. His log-cutter and Ouma’s dick tip quickly met in a kiss once again, before Saihara slammed his backside down hard on it, an action he’d soon regret. Instead of an expected moan of pleasure, Shuichi surprised himself with a cry of anguish, matching Kokichi’s. Ouch.

“Ooh..that really stung,” Saihara muttered, “did I not lubricate myself well enough? Ahhh! It’s r-really big. It’s stretching me out from inside!”

Thin streams of blood trickled from his punctured balloon-knot, indicating that Saihara’s rectal passage had formed fresh fissures from the contact. Unlike Ouma, until this very moment Saihara was previously inexperienced in anal stimulation, let alone had any prior sexual experience at all, and had foolishly made the mistake of attempting to take it all in at once for the first time. “Nfff!” he whimpered as he slowly raised his posterior, the phallus sliding out of him.

“Ohh, sh-shit!” Kokichi mumbled. Why did his butthole have to be so tight? His cock felt like it was going to explode. “Nhaaaahhhh! Please, n-no more!” he wailed, “If you’re going to kill me then just do it already! Wh-why drag this out?! Ahhnn! I can’t take much more!”

Saihara, ignoring the ramifications and in fact reveling in the pain of his brutally popped anal cherry, picked up the pace and started riding more roughly, his ass now harshly slapping against Ouma’s balls, causing both boys' moans to intensify and increase. His anus tugged against the shaft, not wanting to let go. “Mnnah! Oho, Ouma-kun! Have you not learned anything?” Saihara shakily quizzed in-between moans, “O-only, nghhh! Good, well-behaved boys g-get rewarded! Perhaps you shouldn’t have used such rude a-and...ahh! Indecent words!”

As careful as Shuichi had tried to be, as to not hurt himself further or godforbid cause a rectal prolapse, unfortunately for the both of them, he lost his footing and slipped, and the large dick rammed him deep up his ass all at once for the second time, stabbing him in his g-spot. Saihara just felt like someone had punched his prostate with a boxing glove. He barely held back a scream. Suddenly, some offensive and lewd noises escaped his boy-pussy. Shuichi, for the first time, somewhat seemed like his old self, and instantly looked quite embarrassed.

Kokichi, broke out of his pained trance and, though tired and battered, looked at him alarmed, “Uh...d-did you j-just…?”

Shuichi’s embarrassment soon met with simultaneous arousal and excitement though. Then a smile spread across his face, it looked like he had remembered something, “Oh..oh dear. Excuse me! Eheheeh! You know, Ouma-kun…pain and the way the human body handles it are truly interesting things. You know how the intense pain you felt was so severe that you lost control of your bladder? I was surprised you didn’t have a bowel movement as well. Though then again, I’ve been watching you all day, and you really didn’t eat all that much. And all you threw up was bile. Your stomach and colon must’ve been totally empty. As for..myself however..”

Kokichi’s heartbeat quickened. Whatever he was about to say, it couldn’t be good.

“Well, I never really got a chance to use the bathroom. In fact, thanks to the food here, I haven’t been able to go much at all and have been quite…’backed up’ so to speak,” Shuichi grinned that awful, perverted yandere grin at his punching bag and fuckstick, whom had no idea was about to become a toilet as well, “However, with how well equipped you are, you might have the perfect unclogging device I need to help with that issue.” Kokichi pondered the words carefully, before his eyes widened when coming to the horrible realization of what his abuser was trying to say.

“N-no..” the petrified, now even paler boy muttered, “you...you wouldn’t dare…”

  
[Part 8:] Saihara gazed at him voraciously, then continued bouncing on his dick, hard. Obscene noises of flatulence could now be heard accompanying the slapping of flesh together. Kokichi spasmed, his terror and pain had now been joined by extreme disgust. He refused to accept that his body was being violated and defiled like this, just being used however the defiler pleased. Ouma was grateful he had lost his sense of smell at some point in his life a long time ago. The vile, wet sounds from the other boy’s colon, and bursts of air he felt on his shaft as he rode him made Ouma feel very distressed as well as ill. He jerked violently against his restraints.

“No, NO! NOOOOOO!” he hollered hysterically, face completely red, flushed with both revulsion and wrongful arousal he just couldn’t accept.

His rapist moaned in horrible warped pleasure. Kokichi suddenly felt the tip of his dick touch something solid and yet warm and sticky, while the rest of his shaft was tightly hugged by Saihara’s filthy rectum. He recoiled in dread once understanding what it was. His dick suddenly jammed hard right into the putrid substance repeatedly. More debauched moans could be heard from the smelly, fiendish deviant he was penetrating. One more poke, and a long coil of warm, thick feces ran down Ouma’s violated shaft, now stuffing and widening Shuichi’s colon even more. “Oh my...oops,” Shuichi cooed provocatively, swooning.

Then the scat-slut sounded amorously, “Ohhh, f-fuck, here it all comes! Ahhhh!”

Surely enough, in a sick, squishing sound and more flatulence, more shit slid and squirted out from his o-ring to the base of Kokichi’s stick. His balls, waist, and entire cock were now completely covered in excrement.

Kokichi went ballistic, “W-w-what have you done to me?! Y-y-you’re DISGUSTING! You filthy, sordid fucking cunt! Get the FUCK OFF OF ME!”

He grunted and growled like a trapped animal and convulsed in his ropes violently, causing bruising, rope-burn, and even tears to his skin. He wanted out of this hellhole. A familiar feeling of horrible dread suddenly overcame him. Obscene, heinous, repulsive pleasure washed over him as his cock throbbed under the filth, still inside of Shuichi.

Shuichi felt the throbbing and noticed right away, “Hah...nnhhh...won’t be long now. For either of us.”

Shuichi was now rubbing the brown waste on his cock. Kokichi couldn’t hold it in anymore and threw up again. This time Shuichi let it cover his face, chest, balls and willy. With the other hand, he rubbed and tugged at his nipple very aggressively and roughly, as if expecting something to come out. Kokichi just noticed and remembered that Saihara had played with his nipples often like that, and they had actually seemed to have swelled and became larger and perkier, to the point where they almost looked like a woman’s. Shuichi screamed in white hot pleasure as milk had suddenly shot out of both of his nipples. Kokichi was scared shitless. His rapist, clearly a male, had just fucking lactated. Could this get anymore fucked up and absolutely absurd? Ouma bit his lip and whined as droplets of cum squeezed through his dickhole. Saihara grinned maliciously, and then squeezed his soiled ass as hard as he could. Kokichi bellowed and shook turbulently as all of the cum was squashed and forced out of his pump. He had finally popped a blood vessel in his eye from the continuous straining and pain and his violet iris was now surrounded by a dark pink sclera. Saihara’s orgasm followed afterwards with a hefty, slutty moan, as more aberrant white fluid spewed out of his nipples and vomit and shit covered prick like a lewd fountain. The floor was decorated with a sickening rainbow of colors as every human bodily fluid, blood, piss, scat, sweat, breast milk and cum pooled everywhere. Kokichi was nearly unconscious by this point. He had really wished he went unconscious right around the first blow to his crotch, so that he never had to consciously experience any of this.

Shuichi frowned at Kokichi’s bloodshot cornea, “Oh no, did you have an accident? Here, let me.”

Kokichi faintly groaned as his violator licked and prodded his destroyed eye, catching some stray tears, blood drops and loosened corneal tissue in the process. When he was finished with that, Shuichi kissed him on his tear stained cheek, then yelped as the stinking, fermenting dick harshly popped out of his rancid asshole, which was filled with a mixture of scat, cum and traces of blood. Surely enough, some of that blood-laced truffle butter had ended up right on Ouma’s penis too. Ouma’s mind was now completely broken. His brain went blank, a sort of subconscious attempt at a mental suicide.

Saihara produced a satisfied sigh and stood up, then leered and said to his sullied, entranced meat-stick of a uke, “Ahhh, did you enjoy that my little scat princess?”

“Yes, I did,” Kokichi flatly replied, in a new, permanently zombielike state.

“Yes, what?”

“So sorry,” Kokichi corrected himself in the same hollow, unchanging voice, “Yes I did, master.”

“Good,” Saihara replied, pleased, “You remember what I told you right?”

“That good, well-behaved boys get rewarded, master?” Ouma vacantly looked up at his master, waiting for the affirmation.

“That’s a good little whore. You do remember!” Shuichi giddly replied, before producing a remote from his discarded pants pocket. He cranked it on max.

It looked like no remote for a vibrator that Kokichi had ever seen. “What is that, master?”

“Oh,” the self-satisfied detective looked at him malevolently, “you’ll see. Click goes the button.”

Kokichi’s body, starting from his most vulnerable spots, his nipples and near his prostate, were all immediately seized by 45 volts of electricity, forcing him out of his stupor. Ouma’s eyes rolled in the back of his head, and his mouth stretched open as far as it allowed and emitted blood-curdling screams. He seized, and spasmed and jerked all about, rabidly shaking in his chair until it finally fell to its side, where the endless, brutal torment continued on the floor. Within moments, the poor boy began foaming at the mouth and seizuring, causing an involuntary reflex leading to his second orgasm. The semen was nearly fried to steam with the high amount of voltage viciously coursing through Kokichi’s body. Saihara slowly began to laugh, transitioning from a small chuckle to a burst of uncontrollable psychotic mirth at the nearly dead Ouma’s expense. CRUNCH! Shuichi’s laugh faded, and his smile fell, replaced by a look of shock, before his eyes rolled towards the back of his head and he hit the ground in a thud.

  
[Part 9:] Behind him, Maki stood with a metal baseball bat, now with a bit of blood on it. The remote fell from Shuichi’s hand, and she crushed it with the top of the bat. The electrocution, and Kokichi’s screams and suffering, finally stopped. His charred body lay there, his unconscious eyes staring vacantly at nothing. Blood trickled out of his mouth, nose, and eyes. Maki slowly approached him. With a sympathetic look, she knelt down and felt his pulse. Still alive. He was still just barely clinging onto life.

“You didn’t deserve this,” she said dolefully.

Taking out a knife, she cut the boy free from his ropes, to which his body rolled out of the chair limply. His body reeked.

Maki wrinkled her nose, “you never deserved this. I wouldn’t wish even a second of this on my worst enemies.”

Something had woke her up during the night and she found it strange how she never saw Kokichi go back to his dorm and had been outside doing some independent investigating, when she heard screams as well as what sounded like electricity coming from a small, well secluded room, which was when she discreetly picked the lock and snuck up behind Saihara. Based on the extensive wounds and the human waste, bile, dried semen, and urine that caked his body, she was able to deduce everything that Shuichi had done to him. She looked towards Saihara’s almost as unclean naked body. The body of someone she viewed as her friend and a talented, passionate detective and even hero she now viewed as foreign and alien.

“It wasn’t a mere bump on his head,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head, “something truly insidious had been lying dormant within him.”

Mortified, she watched as Ouma's anal passage suddenly completely collapsed and gave way in a sickening and wet PLOP! And out of which the mighty, damp and slightly bloody electrical shocking device, shaped just like a sex toy popped out. His rectum must’ve finally prolapsed from the massiveness of the device as well as the extreme amount of voltage it had applied to it. Ouma’s body was completely ruined. Maki, now trembling, closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, it took nearly all the energy she had not to scream. She would never be able to unsee any of this. She started to reach and pick Ouma up by his arm, but she hesitated and pulled her hand away. She pitied Kokichi, but she did not want to touch him right now. The stench was just awful. She was the only person who was awake, and Saihara was knocked out cold, so she left Kokichi and came back with a body bag and a stick to push him into. The plan was to take him in his room and give him a thorough deep cleaning and shower, and then perhaps give him some medicine, treat his wounds, and let him rest.

“As for you,” she thought out loud, eyeing Saihara aloofly, “you can lay there and rot.” Maki then slowly raised her head and looked towards the camera. With a death stare, she said to it, “Show’s over. I hope you’re content.”


End file.
